We're keeping the baby!
by Willowtree1415
Summary: Teenage Sherlock and John get given a 4 month old baby, and they become strangely attached...
1. Chapter 1

Just an idea that popped into my head, and I had to write it down! Review and tell me what you think and I may continue with it, because i like the idea! :)

John was following Sherlock, (as usual) through a park. Sherlock was darting around to and fro, trying to find clues associated with their latest case. John was getting increasingly more weary and he wanted to go home but he just knew Sherlock wouldn't be giving up on this 'possibility of clues' any time soon, and he couldn't exactly just leave him to it, not with what happened last time...

They had been chasing a man down the streets of London and John had managed to lose track of Sherlock. He was trying not to panic as he walked back home, knowing that he would be informed of everything later. When he was, he discovered that Sherlock had managed to commandeer a taxi cab, (despite being too young to drive, let alone drive a taxi!) and driven it manically around until he managed to "skillfully" (Sherlock's description) run the man over, with the skillful part being that it only knocked the man out. This was NOT going to be happening again John thought, as he kept his eye on Sherlock as he moved away.

They ended up in the children's play area in the park, by the slides and swing and immediately obtained disapproving, overprotective looks from the mothers, who kept a firm eye on their own children and the pair. John sighed, he just didn't understand their prejudices, the mothers just saw a pair of teenagers and were automatically wary for their children's safety, without even knowing them!  
>Although to be fair to them, Sherlock did look rather peculiar, he is tall for his age anyway, and currently wearing a dramatic long black coat with his dark curls falling around his head like a wild disheveled birds nest. What made it worse was he was on the floor on his front looking at a patch of grass by the edge of the swings through his magnifying glass, and John was sure that in the mothers minds this was Sherlock 'ready to pounce' on their unsuspecting children.<p>

John was looking around standing by the swings whilst waiting for Sherlock to finish his deductions so they could move on, when a man came to stand by him. The man had just picked up his small child who John reckoned looked around 5 months old. He was gently rocking the child, whose face was resting on his shoulder. John looked over and smiled at the child who smiled back. Then he put his hands over his eyes and quickly moved them away, playing peek-a-boo. The man saw John out of the corner of his eye, and turned to talk to him.

"Hello" The man said,

"Hello" John said smiling, wary of whether or not it had been appropriate to smile at someone else's child. "I'm sorry, your baby is very cute!" He said.

"Oh, he can be a rascal though!" The man smiled back, reassuring John.

They continued to talk together, until a worried look came over the man's face. The look changed to sheer panic and then determination. John, concerned looked to where the man was looking, and spotted a small figure darting between some trees a little way off. The man whipped out of his pocket a badge, which he showed to John.

"Secret Service, I'm going to have to ask you to hold my child. This is an emergency and a matter of utmost importance."

John looking panicked, was handed the child from the man, and took a step backwards to stand next to Sherlock who had risen from the floor on hearing what the man had said. Together they watched him run towards the cluster of trees.  
>It all happened so quickly, they barely had time to realise what was happening. As soon as the man disappeared behind a tree they heard three loud gunshots which rang through the air and echoed away. A small figure, although not the man they had been talking to, promptly ran away from the trees.<br>Sherlock in this situation would have usually gone running after the shooter, regardless of the danger. But this was different.  
>He turned to John who sucked in a breath, his eyes glazed in shock. He looked down at the child in John's arms, who was looking up at the two with wide eyes and a small mouth curved into small 'o' shape. John gritted his teeth, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed.<br>How swiftly everything had changed. He almost didn't believe what had just happened. He looked around at the park but there was nobody there anymore. John had a feeling that they must have left before the shooting or else they would have heard some screams from the overprotective mothers, whose overprotectiveness didn't seems so ridiculous to John anymore.

"What, are we going to do about the child?" John whispered to Sherlock, not trusting his voice to get any louder.

"I'm checking the man. Stay here"

"Sher- Oh for-" John stammered as Sherlock bolted towards the trees.  
>He tried to rock the child in his arms the way he had seen mothers do, he patted him on the back and stroked his hair, murmuring that everything was going to be okay, although he was reassuring himself more than the child, who was too young to understand what had just happened.<p>

As Sherlock came back, he shook his head at John's hopeful expression.

"No. He's- he's dead."

"Oh, god. What are we going to do about the child then? Sherlock?"

"We ring Mycroft. Come on."

Sherlock started striding towards the park's exit and towards his flat, John followed behind holding the baby. Sherlock dialed in a number as they walked.

"Mycroft. We have a...situation."

Despite Mycroft only being 10 years older than Sherlock, that making him only 26, he already held a high ranking position of authority in the British Government.  
>He was constantly helping Sherlock to get out of trouble, and seemed to always have someone who he could bribe to get needed information. This, not even starting to use the Holmes fortune, to which there was always access to as well.<p>

"We need you to get information... No its not for The Barmount's Case... Yes I know it was simple... Oh course i've solved it." He snapped.  
>"This is something different. A man, has left us... well in charge of a child." Sherlock looked around at John holding the baby. "Yes Mycroft. A CHILD. Yes we have him here... He's... 4 months old... Dark hair... Slightly wavy... Blue eyes...No i'm not describing myself... Yes, he does look like me... No Mycroft, i've not cloned myself!... No we did not take him! We were given him!... In a park... Yes, a man... He was Secret Service... fine... yes... no. We will be at the flat." He hung up and put away his phone, and then got out his keys as they approached the flat door.<p>

This flat was a apparent "Necessity" of Sherlock's, bought 3 years ago, (with the Holmes's fortune) and it was "needed" for Sherlock to live when he was sick of the huge family mansion, and home from school. Inadvertently he usually lived there for the entire holiday. His parents didn't seems to care where he was, maybe they thought it boosted his independence, and so long as he was there for Christmas, Birthday's, and other festive occasions, they turned a blind eye to his absence.

Once in the flat John sat down on his chair, with the baby on his lap. Yes, John had a chair, this was because of the simple fact that in the holidays, he also spent the majority of his spare time around at Sherlock's. Usually trying to stop him murdering himself, or others during his states of boredom. Or helping him track down other such murderers doing the same.  
>Also because Sherlock would have lived quite happily in a flat only containing test tubes and tea, and would have withered away his cases seated on the floor, oblivious to the lack of furniture, and John thought that a least someone in the flat had to take control.<br>Sherlock started pacing the width of the room, John's eyes followed him back and forth and so did the baby's. The baby kept quiet only turning his face to John's as if to ask what Sherlock was doing. John gave him a look back as if to say 'I have no idea what the crazy guy is doing.'  
>The baby smiled up at John, who covered his face and then moved his hands away quickly, playing peek-a-boo. The baby loved this and gurgled and clapped his hands, so John did it again, with the same reaction. Sherlock stopped pacing and looked over.<p>

"What are you doing?"

"Playing Peek-a-boo, he loves it!"

"That is a completely illogical game. Even the baby isn't so stupid to not realise that you haven't disappeared."

"No. But he likes it anyway... Peek-a-boo!"

"Absurd." Sherlock exclaimed sitting down in his chair and staring at the child across from him.

After a while, the baby became bored with the game and started to cry. Sherlock made a look of horror.

"What does it want? Stop it John!"

"I don't know! um, baby? What do you want?" Asked John looking flustered.

"He can't speak John, of course he can't speak!"

The wailing got louder.

"Um, okay. yes, um? Food! Maybe he wants food!"

John quickly got up placing the baby on Sherlock's lap (much to his annoyance,) and hurried to the kitchen and started to heat up some milk and found an empty water bottle which he washed thoroughly before putting in the milk.  
>Suddenly thinking of what Sherlock might be doing, as it was very quiet, he hurried into the living room with the bottle.<br>He saw a strange sight. Sherlock, who should have been holding the baby, instead was looking down in fascination at the child-who was on the floor.

"John Look!" He said gleefully.

"What? Sherlock you were meant to be holding him!"

"John, he's crawling."

"I can see that."

"He's not meant to."

"Be crawling?"

"No!"

"Why not?'

"It's obvious John. This child must be a genius."

"What?"

"They aren't meant to crawl until 6 months at the earliest, even that is rare, but at 4 months he is crawling already!"

"How do you know he is 4 months he could just be-"

"He's four months." Said Sherlock crouching down to eye level with the child and peering into the boy's eyes, who stared back.

"Okay, hang on. You don't know the basics of the solar system and yet why have you memorised the stages of development in a child?" John asked incredulous.

"It is useful. And I just know."

"Of course you do."

"Yes." Sherlock said, abruptly turning around to John. "We are keeping him."

"What?" John exclaimed disbelieving "Sherlock, what do you mean? We are 16! What do you mean we are keeping him?!"

"We can manage."

"No we can't! What do you mean? We have school!"

"We can take him to school."

"No we can't!"

"We can! We can hide him in our dorm room." He said, now determined to get his own way.

"Sherlock." John sighed, "Look, I don't quite understand why you want to keep him, but, but, well- we just can't."

"We can! I want to keep it because it has genius potential and how often does a child show that! I know what will happen! Mycroft will take it away, and give it to some mundane, stupid family who will just fill its head with all sorts of nonsense, and it will turn out like every other idiot on this planet!"

"Sherlock, it's- he's a person! You can barely take care of yourself let alone another person!"

"That's why I need you to help me!" Sherlock shouted, just as the doorbell rang-interrupting their argument.  
>John ran down and let Mycroft in.<p>

Mycroft walked up the stairs, his shoes making sharp tapping sounds. His dark suit was impeccable as usual, and his hair was styled into his customary precise and faultless look. As he entered the room, he spotted Sherlock lying on the floor with the baby, and he looked down in distain.

"Oh dear. I should have arrived earlier."

"Mycroft. I'm keeping him." he said indignantly without looking up at his brother.

Mycroft breathed out a long sigh.

"Yes. I definitely should have arrived earlier."


	2. Chapter 2

"Sherl-" Mycroft began

"No. I know we can keep him. He's an unknown, secret baby who isn't on the records, and ultimately does not exist. Am I right?"

"Yes Sherlock, bu-"

"Then we can keep him. I'm sure John and I are capable of looking after a child, Mycroft." He said sarcastically, sending him a glare

"You. Capable of bringing up a child?" Mycroft said with a disbelieving half smile.

"Yes. Of course I can. I'm not an idiot!" Sherlock retorted, continuing to glare at Mycroft, who half closed his eyes, let out a big sigh, and then turned to John.

"How would you feel about this sudden... How shall we put it...'fatherhood' John?"

Sherlock looked over to John and stared intently, trying to subliminally get him to take his side.

"Mycroft! You can't actually be considering this!" John said ignoring Sherlock's glares directed at him.

"I have little choice in the matter as you well know John." He said looking pointedly at Sherlock.

"But, what? How? I mean, we couldn't, could we? We have school! We're 16 for Christ's sake!"

"Age is irrelevant John." Sherlock said picking up the child and standing up. His eyes fixed on Mycroft who gave an equally intense look back.

"Sherlock, be serious! Come on, how could we possibly take care of a five month old child wh-"

"Four." Mycroft and Sherlock said simultaneously without breaking their gaze with one another.

"Okay, a _four_ month old child, who needs constant attention!" Said John, feeling like the only rational one in the room, and like he was being blatantly ignored by the brothers.

Sherlock spoke, playing to John's emotional side by flashing him a sad and wounded look.

"It is possible...You just don't want to."

"Sherlock, come on... You know we couldn't really!" He said, breaking slightly under Sherlock's emotional blackmail, He turned to Mycroft. "We couldn't, could we?"

"Well. I could arrange things to make it possible. If you have to act like such a child about this Sherlock."

"I am not acting like a child." He said stonily, continuing with their staring game.

"If I must." Mycroft said, sighing again.

"Yes." Sherlock said decisively.

John looked at him for a moment.

"Okay, well, I mean, I guess we-"

Before John had even agreed. Sherlock's face grew into a smug smile, feeling the glory of winning the competition against Mycroft, and he held the baby out at arms length to talk to him.

"You are staying with us now! Whether Uncle Mycroft likes it or not."

"Uncle, dear god." Mycroft said rubbing his head.

"So what do we know about the child Mycroft?" John asked, a little windswept by the rapid decision that had just been made.

"He is the son of two (now) deceased secret service officers who informed nobody of his existence but a select few, meaning that he is not on the records and officially does not exist. The father was on leave when he was shot this afternoon, but no doubt felt a moral obligation towards continuing with the case he was currently working on. The boy is 4 months old, we have no information on his whereabouts for his lifetime, but at birth he was completely healthy, he hasn't been checked since, so his health is unknown at this point."

"Okay good, thanks." John said reaching over to rescue the child from Sherlock who was holding him in a strange position and looked as if he was about to drop him.

Mycroft gave John a nod of acknowledgement and headed for the door. Pausing only for a moment to say one final thing.

"He has no name which we are aware of. Perhaps the parents named him something, but this is unknown. We only know the number he was issued which is '191218'."

Upon saying this, Mycroft left.

John looked at Sherlock.

"Sherlock."

"What?"

"What the hell! Was all that?"

"All what?"

"You know what!"

"No."

"Sherlock, we have a child now! If you hadn't noticed!"

"Of course i've noticed John. I'm not an idiot."

Sherlock went to sit in his chair and picked up his phone and started texting. John looked at him narrowing his eyes.

"That was a silly, bloody feud between you and Mycroft!" Said John, "And now we have a child out of it!"

"Well we can't give him back."

"Sherlock!"

"That would mean Mycroft would win."

"Oh great. Brilliant! Now we are stuck as 16 year old parents because you won't give in to a stupid, childish argument! Just let Mycroft win for god's sake!"

"No. I'm sure the child won't bother me. 'Parenting.' It can't be that hard, most of you idiots in this world do it."

"Oh for god's- Look if you want to look after the child, be my guest. I would like to see you try to cope with him! You know, feeding, changing, waking up in the middle of the night..."

Sherlock looked up, suddenly panicked at the reality of the thought of John leaving him alone with the child, believing fully that John would have just helped him willingly.

"John? But Joh- You can't actually leave him!"

John put the baby down on the floor and started to head out of the door, talking over his shoulder.

"Oh, but I thought that if even idiots like me can take care of children so, of course the great Sherlock Holmes can!"

"John, I didn't mean yo- that- John!" Sherlock jumped up and grabbed his arm as he walked away.

"What? Sherlock. What?" He said angrily shrugging off his hand.

"I need you John." Sherlock said in a small voice, looking to his feet.

"And...?"

"I'm sorry." He said even quieter.

"Okay,"

They looked up at each other.  
>John was slightly amazed and bemused at actually getting an apology out of Sherlock, usually this was only used if he really wanted something! Maybe he'd panicked him. 'Good.' He thought.<p>

John sighed.

"Sherlock, the baby isn't an experiment you know."

"John. Think of this instead, as a chance to record a life of another individual, from as early as four months old!"

"He's not going to be an experiment!"

"Think of the medical studies you could build. Universities might be impressed..."

"Not an experiment!"

"He's not- not- only an experiment!"

"No, he's a real live human child. Not an animal or a pet either. Remember that! Anyway, Sherlock what about school? Have you thought of that?"

"We can manage."

"How?"

"We will have frees at different times we can take care of him then, leave him in our dorm room the other times."

"What if he starts crying when we aren't there?"

"He won't."

"No, he might. What would we do then?"

"He won't."

"Sherlock. I know you feel this sudden need to try and bring up your new child prodigy, and also for you to not have to admit to Mycroft that you can't do something, god forbid! But I just don't think that this is possible!"

"John do you like the baby?"

"Of course I like the baby, he's one of the cutest I've ever seen!"

"Then what is the problem?"

"There is more to it than that!"

"Bu- Oh. -Do you like me?"

"Oh, don't be a dick! Of course I like you!"

"Then I cannot see a problem!"

John sighed, picking the child up again and hitching him onto his hip as Sherlock continued.

"Of course you would have to live here in the holidays and we would have to have the same dorm room this year, but you barely leave here anyway, it's just a matter of getting you ke- oh- yeah, you already have keys."

"Sherlock you are ignoring the fact that we don't know the first thing about bringing up a child!"

"We can learn."

"All because you don't want to say 'I can't' to your brother."

"And in the name of medical research."

"Mmm."

"Is that a yes?"

"I don't know. You can't leave it all to me you know!"

"I won't!"

"This is crazy you know that?"

"I don't see a relationship between our mental state and bringing up a child?"

"No but this is insane! Am I actually agreeing to this? Why am I agreeing to this?"

"Because I want you to."

"Oh so now I'm doing everything you want then? ...Actually that's not too different to normal."

Sherlock gave a half smile at John, and then sat back in his chair, John put the baby down on the floor, between the two chairs and sat in his own. They both looked down on the child, who looked up with blue eyes back at them. John turned his face up to Sherlock, and spoke.

"Well if we are really doing this... He needs a name."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thankyou to all you amazing people who are commenting and reading this story! Love you guys! Here's another chapter for you! :) Enjoy!**

**Just to say: The piece of music mentioned at the end I absolutely love! this is the version I listened to whilst writing this chapter (Just ignore the piano ;) ) and the violin is how I imagined it being played in the story :)**

** watch?v=SKd0VII-l3A**

**Please comment any feedback on the story! Thanks! :) **

The next day John had sent Sherlock out to the shops to buy anything that they needed for the baby, who still had no name. He felt unsure about sending Sherlock out alone, but they couldn't have taken the baby into a busy shopping centre, and actually managed to get some shopping done without a pram, and they desperately needed some essential items for the baby.  
>John had felt that between the options of leaving the child alone for hours with Sherlock, and risk his shopping abnormalities, he would go with the latter.<br>Once Sherlock got back, he dumped the bags on the floor and collapsed into his chair. John hearing him come in brought the baby through and put him on the floor, where he gave him the union jack cushion of John's own chair, for the baby to hug. John looked over at the pile of shopping on the floor, suddenly wary as to what Sherlock had bought, he went over and started to root around in the bags.

"What is...this?" John asked, scrunching up his face in confusion, and pulling something indistinguishable out of the bag. He looked over to Sherlock, who glanced up from the newspaper he was now reading.

"How am I meant to know?"

"You bought it!"

"I didn't look at what it was!"

"Sherlock!... And what on earth is this one?" He said pulling out an equally as mysterious object.

"I am not an expert in baby objects John."

"Sherlock! I gave you a list! What happened to 'buy the things we needed'... off the list!"

"The things I bought will be necessary."

"What? This white piece of fabric...stitched into this odd shape? What eve-?" He said holding the material up and trying to make sense of what they would do with it. He shoved in back, and kept looking through the bags and then looked up at Sherlock again, in disbelief.

"What about baby milk sherlock! You were supposed to get baby milk! The formula stuff"

"He seemed perfectly happy with the tea I gave him this morning." He said without looking up from his paper.

"Tea?!" You gave the baby tea!" He exclaimed incredulous, his eyes widening.

"He likes tea."

"Sher- oh for god's sake you are useless!" John sighed, and started to put the items strewed around back into the bags.

Just then, the doorbell rang. John looked toward the door and then back to Sherlock who was unmoving. He grunted and then went to answer it, mumbling about how Sherlock doesn't even answer the door in his own flat. At the door was a delivery man with several large cardboard boxes and a form and pen.

"John Watson?"

"Yes?" John replied slowly, his eyebrows furrowing, questioning how he was getting a delivery at a place he didn't even live at.

"Sign here please."

John signed on the line.

"Hang on wait- How-?" but the man was gone already. John looked at the pile of boxes now at his feet.  
>After three trips, John had got the boxes up the stairs. Sherlock- only moving to flick his page, did nothing to help. Once finished, John found a knife and then slit open the top box. Inside, it was full of nappies. The second and third contained various other baby things, such as bottles and toys and then the fourth box, which was long and thin, contained a flat pack baby cot. John sighed a sigh of relief. At least Mycroft was much more sensible than his brother. He turned to the useless one in the corner.<p>

"At least your brother understands that a baby has a need for things other than tea and unidentifiable stuff you found in a shop!"

Sherlock looked up, and made a face of disgust at the boxes and then turned back to his paper. John sighed and rubbed his head.

"Sherlock. You better help me with the baby."

"I do help."

"What? How is reading the paper helping the baby?"

"Does the baby need anything at this moment?"

"Well- No. I guess n-"

"There you go."

John glared in distain at Sherlock and then sighed again, and looked at the baby assuring himself that he was alright, the baby was very content with just chewing on the cushion. So John picked up his laptop and sat down his his chair, keeping half an eye on the surprisingly well behaved baby.

That evening, John looked over to Sherlock who was proudly standing by the (now built) cot. He had spent hours creating the item which he had originally deemed to be 'so simple that the baby could have built it himself.'  
>John was thankful that Sherlock had actually done something, he looked over at the cot, and then back at Sherlock then he frowned, his mind thinking.<p>

"Um, Sherlock?"

"Mmm?" Sherlock mumbled whilst picking up a small screw which he had obviously missed from the cot, and hurriedly putting it in his pocket where John wouldn't see.

"Where is the cot actually going to go?"

"Well it- It sh-..." Sherlock trailed off, realising that he didn't know the answer. When John stayed over at the flat, he always stayed in what had now become his room. Sherlock of course had his own bedroom, and there was the lounge the kitchen and the bathroom. But that was it.

"Well he can't go in my room." Sherlock said indignantly.

"If he goes in mine, you will never look after him if he wakes up in the night!"

"I would!"

"No you wouldn't. Anyway you are up half the night usually, why can't he go into your room?"

"He just can't. Last night was bad enough. He was in my bed."

"Well he wouldn't be in your bed this time."

"No."

"Fine." Where are we going to put him then?"  
>"In here. We can both check on him then."<p>

"Fine."

"Fine."

They shifted the cot over to one side of the room and, moved across the sofa slightly to fit it in. Then John picked up the baby, still gripping his union jack cushion, and put him in it. The baby sat and stared up at John. John looked down, he had been half expecting the baby just to fall asleep just because he had been put into a cot, but obviously that was not going to be the case.

"Sherlock. He's not sleeping, how do we make him sleep?" He asked looking over to Sherlock, who came and joined him by the cot. The pair looked down at him, and then Sherlock, with an idea, went and fetched something from his room.  
>He came back in with his violin and started to play a soft and beautiful melody by the baby's cot. The baby looked up at Sherlock in fascination, his little mouth wide open. John relaxed and sat down in his chair listening as well, marveling at Sherlock's quick thinking.<br>Sherlock was clearly basking in the adoration from the small child, and continued to play gently.  
>John watched Sherlock too, listening to his beautiful playing, full of meaning, which looked effortless, but was obviously very complicated. He watched the way his eyes creased in concentration, feeling every note of the song. John shut his eyes, enjoying how the song made him feel, like he was floating and somehow like nothing bad ever would happen again to anyone. Once it was nearing to a close, and Sherlock was ringing out the last notes of the song, John opened his eyes and looked over at the cot, where the baby was now fast asleep, lying against his cushion. He turned to Sherlock who was also looking at the baby with a slight smile in his eyes. John spoke softly as not to wake him.<p>

"That was lovely. What was that?" He smiled softly.

"Clair de Lune. Debussy." He looked back at John, a small smile playing on his lips, relishing the commendation of his playing.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Heyy sorry its been a while since i posted! ive been ever so busy! :) but anyway here is another chapter! hope you guys like it! :D**_

Mycroft placed the piece of paper on the table in front of John.

"You have to fill in this birth certificate, otherwise the child officially does not exist, and this may result in problems for him as he grows up... That's to say if you manage to cope that long with the child." He said, subtly taunting Sherlock without looking at him.

Sherlock glared over angrily from where he was standing, and crossed his arms.

"We will be perfectly able to 'cope', Mycroft." He said defiantly, refusing to be beaten by his brother.

Mycroft continued speaking to John, only acknowledging Sherlock's comment with a slight smirk in the corner of his mouth.

"Fill in the form and I will send someone to collect it once you have finished. I have filled in the date of birth already, and several other small details."

"Okay thanks, we will do that." John said, trying to be friendly and smiling, refusing to partake in the sibling rivalry.

Once Mycroft had left, John sorted out the baby's bottle, making sure to thoroughly clean the bottle, (who knows what Sherlock may have used it for!) he also set about making a cup of tea for himself and Sherlock. Finally, he sat down in his chair and passed across Sherlock the tea, which he started sipping slowly.

"So." He said looking down at the blank form before him. "Name and surname of child. Right. What are we going to name him? Any ideas? Sherlock?"

"Barium."

"No. We are not naming him Barium." He said exasperated, throwing up his hands.

"Barry for short."

"No!... How about Phillip?"

"No, everyone is called Phillip."

"Fine, something more unusual... Samuel?"

"That's not more unusual. If anything there are even more people with that name. How about Atom?"

"Atom? Sherlock you can't name a baby Atom!"

"Yes you can."

"Well we aren't! How about Rufus?"

"Sounds like a dog's name. Can't we call him John?"

"No. Think of how confusing that would be!... How about Alex?"

"No. Too common. Bunsen?"

"As in Bunsen Burner? Not a chance. What about Jack?"

"No. Hydrogen?"

"Not happening! Billy?"

"No, that sounds like a goat's name. Petri?"

"No. Oliver?"

"No. Ion?"

"Ian?"

"No, Ion."

"No. Definitely not... Charles?"

"Are you trying to suggest the entire royal family? How about Argon?"

"No! We are not calling him after the gas which comes from the Greek word for lazy! Or any other scientific appliance or element for that matter!"

"Fine. How about Albert?"

"After Einstein. Albert Einstein. Lot to live up to don't you think? What if he doesn't like science?"

"He will like science. Of course he will like science."

"Okay, if you say so... How about Nick?" John asked sighing.

"Short for Nickel?"

"Well I would say that Nicholas is the more common elongation." John laughed, bemused.

Sherlock made a sound of annoyance. "But I quite liked Nick."

"We are not calling him that with you telling people it is the abbreviation for Nickel! No periodic elements!"

"Fine." He said, moodily taking a slurp of tea.

"What about James?" John asked after a moment of thought.

"Don't like that name."

"Okay how about naming him after someone?"

"Johann."

"After...Bach?"

"Yes, Johann Sebastian Bach. Or his student, Johann Tobias Krebs."

"Don't like Johann. Too similar to John. Sebastian?"

"No."

"What about Tobias? I like Tobias." John said, turning the name over in his mind.

"It is not a first name."

"It could be, what's wrong with it as a first name?"

"It's not right. Nobody has it as a first name."

"I'm sure people do- Fine. A middle name then?"

"Yes. That would be... Adequate."

"So back to the first name."

"Mendelssohn."

"What?"

"Felix Mendelssohn."

"Felix... I like that. Felix."

"Really? You do?"

"Yes... it has a nice ring to it, fairly unusual too."

"Yes. Felix." Sherlock said, trying out the name.

"Felix Tobias Holmes"

"No. Felix Tobias Watson-Holmes."  
>There was a moment of pause.<p>

"We are joining our surnames?" John asked surprised.

"Yes." Sherlock said as if it was obvious.

"Okay." John looked up at Sherlock who had got up, and gone over to the baby's cot. He stood up to join him, and they both looked down on the baby, Sherlock even showing faint hints of fondness on his face.

"Hello Felix." John said smiling, and for the first time feeling happy with the prospect of him and Sherlock bringing up this child.

He also felt sure now, upon deciding, that this was the right name. Sherlock was happy too, John thought, glancing at him standing next to him. He somehow had got his own way, with the child being named after two composers. John thought that the matter of the surname was strange, he felt that it was bizarre them putting down a double barrelled name, which is usually a mix of the two parents... but somehow it felt and sounded right despite their odd situation.

John went back to the form and sat down at his desk, pulling out a pen. He filled in the name box, and jotted down the date of Felix's birth on a slip of paper, which he placed in a draw for later reference. He looked over the rest of the sheet, then noticed something.

"Um, Sherlock?"

"Mmm?"

"There is a slot for a mother and one for a father... what do we do with that?"

"Mycroft will sort it. He knows how to change these things. We will both be the chil- Felix's parents, and his legal guardians."

"Oh, okay. Good." John said. The whole thing still feeling to him, like a very... unique situation.

They both looked back to Felix, who was sitting patiently in his cot, waiting to be taken out. John reached in and lifted him out,

"Come on Fee, lets go out." He said, suddenly excited at the prospect of being able to go out with the child for the first time. Mycroft had delivered around a very expensive looking pram that morning, which meant it would be easy to take him out for a walk now.

"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked, picking up his coat and putting it on.

"I don't know? Any ideas? I just thought we should. Now we have the pram." He said excitedly. "Actually, can we go to the shopping centre? I think we need some more baby clothes."

"Okay."

John rummaged into one of Mycroft's boxes and found a little hat, Which he placed promptly onto Felix's head. Despite it being Summer, John was terrified that Felix might get too cold. Once they had maneuvered the pram down the stairs, John carefully placed Felix inside, and tied up the little straps to hold him in. It made him look very small, being enveloped by the big pram, which John looked at (and already thinking like a parent,) thought that it didn't matter because he would grow into it.

They set off down the street, and started walking towards the shopping centre. Sherlock was walking at his normal, long stride, fast paced walk, when he suddenly realised how far behind John was.

"Why- Why are you walking so slowly?" He called back to him.

"I'm enjoying the stroll. Stop walking so fast, you aren't even walking with us. Fee is liking too! Aren't you?" He looked down and smiled at the baby, who smiled back, mimicking his face. Sherlock scowled, then reluctantly waited for John and walked at the same pace, feeling that every step was taking forever.

Once they finally got to the shopping centre, as they walked through the main square, John started to notice that people were staring at them. They had come a fairly quiet route to get to the centre, and there hadn't been many people who paid attention to them on the street, but here... Everyone did.

John felt uncomfortable. He wasn't used to having this many strange looks, which was saying something, considering that he walks around with Sherlock Holmes, the most publicly ostentatious person he knew! These were different looks though. John could almost read what they were saying from their expressions as they walked by:  
>'Gay. Teenage. Too young to be parents. Got a girl knocked up. A disgrace. Shouldn't be youth today!'<br>John hung his head, feeling their absent, unspoken words affect him. Sherlock who was walking beside him, was completely obliviously to all this, until he suddenly noticed John shying away from the other people.

"John? Wha- What's wrong?" He looked suddenly concerned, and stopped John from walking forwards any further, by stepping in front of the pram.

"These people. They all are... Judging us! It's horrible!"

"Judging? What do you mean?" He asked not understanding, and looking around at the faceless crowds in the shopping centre.

"They are all giving us weird looks, like we are freaks!"

"Why?"

"Because we are 16 and we have a baby!"

"How do they know how old we are? They are all idiots! Anyway, you look much older."

"But also- oh it doesn't matter..." He said bowing his head down, embarrassed, and trying to walk forwards, but Sherlock was still there, and put his hands on John's shoulders to stop him from moving away.

"What? Tell me."

"No. It doesn't matter."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Tell me."

"Well, they think that- that... well... we are together." He said, looking cautiously up at Sherlock.

"Oh." Sherlock said looking slightly taken aback, but then defiant. "Well what is wrong with that?"

"Nothing! Just some people don't feel comfortable seeing um, gay... um, parents."

"Well then you shouldn't care what some people think."

"I'll try not to. It's very hard though."

"They know nothing John. Nothing. Don't pay attention to people like that."

"Okay." He said in a small voice and gave a quick smile up to Sherlock, who moved himself away from in front of the pram.  
>They carried on walking, and it's not that the people stopped staring, on the contrary, but at every disapproving face John just looked at Sherlock and at Felix, and as they made their way through the people, he started to slowly not care whether anyone else didn't like it. Or what they might be thinking. He didn't want to make them happy. It was none of their business. He was was happy. That was all that mattered.<p>

_**Merry Christmas for Thursday! :D and please comment if you liked it! Or want to see anything in the story and i shall do my best :) i love to hear what you think! :) Thankyou!**_


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